Squeeze. Release. .
Juice runs through your fingers.
Light in the kaleidoscope on the
Insides of your eyelids tightly closed.
Body scent of Beloved drawn in
Held. Held. Dizzy.
Held. Released.
-M.
Tag: Love Poetry
Something More Like Sway
We were meant to dance
I think
This is how the, Push me.
Push me. love rounds
Into something more like sway
With the long ache and
Hold me up
Hold me up.
-M.
I Am Unconflicted Loving You by Bread
From my left hand broken
Though my body is whole
You know it with yours
Raw honey from my ring finger
To your neck that velvet
Spot below your ear
Milk and marble cake from
My mouth on your birthday
And on mine.
-M.
Every Woman Look Here (found poetry: haiku)
Upright love with young
Women only mesh sex vid-
Eo sex photos…
-M.
(from the WordPress Reader View of an entity that follows my blog)
Soon Is a Dirty Word
You’ve said soon
A thousand times it doesn’t
Make me miss you any less
It doesn’t manifest in ether The smell of you either I miss
That scent like flowers
But manly in a way
That makes me laugh stop
Making me laugh I seriously I do
Miss you
I want to say
Your tender touch but I
Don’t want to sound stupid and
I want to say your rough touches too
But I’m too mad to be
Dirty with you
Right now anyway the way
You put a dob of
Cream cheese frosting on
The tip of my nose that time and
Licked it off I hated that
My nose smelled like spit
For what seemed like weeks it
Wasn’t funny to anyone but you
I miss that too.
-M.
Open
If you ask for blessing
With both fists clenched
Where does your lover
Lay the present
And how do you
Unwrap it?
-M.
Extra Sexy Points For Brains
I’m going to marry him—
All the men my
Mind has a crush on.
No one finds Aldous
Huxley as hot as I do
Nor wants to share the
Bed as much with that
Angle-faced man.
-M.
(Day 15 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)
I’m Really a Nice Lady
I respect you less because
You love me unconditionally
I don’t respect you at all
You went in for a kiss and
I gave you my neck
Enough perfume to keep
You panting for another year
As if you needed a reason, dog-
-ed devotion is an un-sexy face
You let me shatter you
And I shatter you
A matter of course like college boys becoming
Sadistic prison guards when
Given the go-on by closet sadistic
Psychiatrists in the name of a science
Doomed to perpetual infancy, grow
A pair
And some hair and tell me to
My face I’m a bitch
Be a goddamned man
Stop dotting your hearts with
I… I… I… am not worth it
Have made myself not worth it
On purpose you shake
My linear foundations
One pulsing emotion that you are
I look down on you
for that too.
-M.
(Day 6 of my 66 Day Poetry Habit)
Controlled Substances (NaPoMo Day 4)
My pharmacist’s assistant boyfriend
gained weight.
It brings us closer as our fingers
touch over the Hydrocodone
and our wrinkles show
and our noses shine
under the fluorescent lights.
I say in a low voice
You know they’re for my mother.
He leans forward and says
so gently
I know. I remember you.
I tell him they’re for my mother every time
to prompt his sweet nothing.
I am unashamed. I flounce
out of the pharmacy with my narcotics
and swing my hips with purpose.
-M.
(I’m starting a little late for National Poetry Month’s 30 in 30. I owe you three. I’m on it.)
Shush
I could ruin him by his lips
allow the flesh salt
of my pink finger pads
to desiccate the delicate
membranes
to petrify them
forever
together.
-M.
